


Simpatía por el Diablo (Sympathy for the Devil)

by Stiney



Series: Fu King 'Verse [11]
Category: A-Team (2010), A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Bisexual Female Character, F/F, Female Characters, Female Relationships, Female-Centric, Femslash, LGBTQ Female Character, POV Female Character, Post-Movie(s), Public Sex, Rare Pairings, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:19:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stiney/pseuds/Stiney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charissa Sosa can't always get what she wants, but Amy Allen will always give her what she needs. <b>(Third fic for the Amy/Charissa Fu King arc.)</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Simpatía por el Diablo (Sympathy for the Devil)

**Author's Note:**

> The third [Fu King](../series/17316) Amy/Charissa story. Takes place after [Chasing El Diablo](374218) and [Fringe Benefits](401029).

“Oh, fuck you.” Captain Charissa Sosa growled as she looked up at the roof of the crowded nightspot to the sign emblazoned with _Diablo’s_ and a giant she-devil in thigh-high boots and bikini.

It was a quarter past midnight and this is where the phone trace had led her. She should have known it would have been a ploy for the A-Team to have a chance to get out of Vegas.  

Charissa started towards the entrance anyway when _‘Sympathy for the Devil’_ started playing… from her coat pocket.

She was really getting tired of these assholes and their drop phones.

“What?” She barked into the receiver.

 _“You don’t like the rendezvous point? I picked it because the El Diablo on the roof reminded me of you.”_ Amy Allen’s voice purred over the line. _“Tell the bar you have a tab under my name and they’ll take care of you. Better luck next time, sweetheart.”_

“Dammit.” Charissa tossed the phone into her pocket and made her way inside. If she was here already she might as well try and get as much information to send to Colonel Decker as possible.

The music was loud, pulsing around the crowd that _had_ to max out the fire code. Servers wearing black wigs complete with devil horns and barely anything else wove through the mass of people. Their path eased by the alcohol they offered along the way.

After 20 minutes and the only attention she’d gotten was from the creepy old guy wanting to buy her a drink, Charissa knew it was time to throw in the towel.

Another report to be filed with excuses that didn’t even come close to what Charissa felt was the truth.

_They don’t deserve to be locked up again._

_You see, Colonel, they’ve got this woman working with…_

Charissa shook her head hard against that last dangerous thought and made a quick detour to the nearest women’s room…that had a line around the corner.

“This is bullshit.” She grumbled.

After minutes of the line not budging, Charissa noticed staff, mostly servers going in and out of a door at the end of the hall.

When the last girl came out, Charissa made her way over, hoping her suspicions were right.

Turning on the light revealed a small bathroom.

“Bingo.” She flipped the lock before making her way inside the stall.

As she finished up at the sink she heard a key then the door opened.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” The tall, thin waitress stated.

Before Charissa could explain herself, the woman turned. And as she heard the lock reengage Charissa recognized the large dark angel wings tattoo on the server’s back.

“Allen.” She hissed.

Amy turned, pulling the wig off and running a hand through black, short asymmetrical hair as she started towards the other woman.

“Charissa. I’m hurt. I thought you’d be happy to see me. Murdock told me how disappointed you were when I wasn’t able to make it out to Maine the last time you saw the guys.”

The Captain unwittingly felt her face redden as she silently cursed the pilot. _‘Asshole.’_

Though they were the same height and Amy was thinly built, the blogger still easily crowded Charissa against the sink.

Hands on the counter to either side of the Captain’s hips, Amy leaned close.

“Admit it. You missed me.”

Charissa closed her eyes at the statement, not wanting the blogger to see the truth.

Awkward stunted dates, too many nights rocking against her own hand. Unable to _not_ think of the warmth and slide of slick bodies the last two times they’d crossed paths.

She hated that someone could unbalance her so fast. Get under her skin so completely in such a short time.

Opening her eyes she stared defiantly at the other woman.

“Sorry, _sweetheart_. The only time I think of you is when I’m putting your name on the list of known accomplices of the A-Team.”

“Liar.” Amy bluntly accused; removing the remaining sliver of space between them and bringing their mouths together.

Charissa’s protest stalled as a hand glided over her hip as Amy’s tongue slid along her lips.

When she stood firm Amy broke the kiss then whispered in her ear. “You think about me when you’ve got fingers buried deep inside yourself.” Her hand moved between the brunette’s thighs. “Wishing it was my tongue on your clit.”

The heated words pulled a groan from Charissa that shattered all stoic pretenses.

Lunging forward, Charissa captured Amy’s mouth even as the blogger chuckled knowingly.

Charissa’s hands roamed over Amy’s lithe figure. Along the sharp curve of spandex covered hipbone, Over pert breasts, nipple rings easily felt through the thin material of the tank top.

The blogger’s hands were on an exploration of their own, causing noises Charissa hadn’t made in months, hadn’t made _until_ Amy, to fill the small space of the bathroom.

“Yes!” Charissa shouted when long fingers deftly unfastened jeans then slipped over ever dampening panties.

“You definitely missed me.” Amy cockily smirked, though Charissa could see the cracks in her composure. “Turn around.”

“What?”

“Hold onto the counter.” Amy ordered, removing her hand from Charissa’s pants.

There was no more questioning when Amy slid fingers into her mouth with a pleased moan.

“Perfect.” She breathed into Charissa’s hair, watching the brunette’s response in the mirror they were now facing.

“Fuck.” Charissa gasped when Amy slid fingers into her. She kept her gaze down, unable to handle the brief glimpse of raw desire she saw etched on her own features.

Amy muttered low and encouraging as her fingers drove Charissa towards what the Captain knew would be a quick orgasm.

She lifted her eyes and focused on the blogger. Her pale complexion flushed, dark eyes even more so, blow wide with lust.

As they rocked against the sink, Charissa reached back and after a bit of fumbling that pulled a quiet laugh from her partner, had her hand down the other woman’s shorts. Slick and wet, making Amy buck as she teased her clit.

Charissa turned slightly, meeting Amy in an awkward kiss. Not the best position, sloppy but full of so much passion that it scared Charissa for a moment.

 _It wasn’t the time._ Now there was only the race towards the ultimate goal.

They found a rhythm they could both meet and soon with the right pressure, Amy was crying out, exclamations muffled against Charissa's shoulder.

Shudders continued to wrack the blogger’s body as she plunged into the other woman, before stroking fingers up over her clit.

The movements were dizzying and Charissa felt her own orgasm begin to wash over her.

They leaned against the sink, panting and gasping until a loud bang came from the hall.

“What the hell are you doing in there?” An angry male voice bellowed.

Clothes were hastily rearranged before they unlocked the door.

The man’s eyes dragged over them, the knowing leer on his face cut short when Charissa pulled out her badge.

“Pervert!” Amy shouted as he scurried away.

She turned to Charissa with a grin that the Captain couldn’t decipher. “Still got that phone?”

Charissa's answer was momentarily halted by a light kiss brushed against her lips.

“It’s right…” She started digging through her pocket, pulling the phone out. “…here.”

Holding the device up she looked around only to find Amy gone.

“Shit.”

Hurrying through the crowd she only accepted defeat after the third waitress she grabbed a hold of wasn’t Amy.

Walking out onto the nightlife filled busy street Charissa suddenly heard the familiar strains of the Rolling Stones coming from her coat.

_This was getting really old._


End file.
